Melane
by skwarlogirl12
Summary: Put in Misc. Tv bc there is no youtuber section. Sometimes, life isn't all sunshine and roses. Jack and Melane are friends. Not close friends, but friends all the same. They met in college through one of his professors, but never hung out much outside of school. When they graduated, she made sure he had her number and she had his. Full summary inside.
1. chapter 1

Chapter One: Unfortunate Change

~~~~~MELANE~~~~~

"Psst," a voice whispers. I don't even need to open my eyes to know that it's my roommate, April.

"No," I moan, rolling over so I'm face down on my bed.

"Yes! It's after noon, time to get up!" She pokes my back. "If you don't get up, I'll tickle you."

"I'll tackle you if you do," I hiss. It may be late in the day, but I work the night shift at a pub and need all the hours of sleep I can get.

I feel April's fingers expertly slide in my armpits, and I immediately clamp my arms against myself sides, earning a squeal as she yanks herself free. As promised, I fling myself out of bed and chase her down the dimly lit hallway to the living room. She freezes for just a moment, deciding which way to run, and I grab her, wrapping her in a choke hold from behind and rubbing my knuckles on her skull. Her blond hair comes free from the pony tail, sticking up all over the place.

"You win!" She cries, "please!" I immediately let her go and shove her playfully before heading back to my room. "We're leaving for Panda Express in ten!" She calls after me.

I ignore her and grab my makeup bag off my dresser before going into my bathroom. I frown at my reflection. Ratty black hair, big nose, dark circles under my eyes, and a scar above my eyebrow. April swears it's barely noticeable, but aside from my self-cut crooked bangs, it's the most noticeable thing on me. I sigh inwardly, wishing for some way to fix my fresh-from-college appearance besides plastic surgery. I hate bloody, gory things.

I put some cover up on my scar and under my eyes before penciling on some eyeliner. Ripping a brush through my hair, I spray on some dry shampoo. Ten minutes isn't enough time to shower and get ready. After I look semi-decent, I throw on a red and white sweater with black jeans.

"Melane!" April screeches.

"Just... a... minute!" I yell, tugging on my knee-high brown boots and hopping out of my room. I grab my purse off the coffee table and follow her to her car.

The line is surprisingly short for lunch hour, and our orders of shrimp fried rice and orange chicken come exceptionally quick. As soon as we're seated in a booth, I open my fortune cookie and break it open, popping pieces of it in my mouth as I read the tiny white slip out loud. "Someone close to you is about to go through a drastic change." I look up at April and she scoots over to me, pulling me in an awkward side hug.

"Nothing is going to change," she promises with a smile.

As we eat, I take my phone from my purse. I have three texts from my college friend, Jack. We've hung out a few times, but never really gotten any further. He talks about his girlfriend a lot, and though they are really cute together, she lives in a different country. He's come to me for advice several times, and each time I am overjoyed to help. I've never once felt jealous, though April insists that I must be. Jack is a good guy and all, but were both very busy people. He has a sort of weird job. He records videos and posts them on YouTube, which takes up enough time on its own, and he usually has a whack sleep schedule. I work nights and sleep most of the day. I don't have the time to think about him romantically.

One of the texts is a request for me to call him. I set my phone aside and dig into my orange chicken. Whatever it is Jack needs can wait.

"Hey," I say as soon as he picks up the phone. April eyes me as we drive out of the parking lot. "Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner, I overslept and then went out to eat."

"Yeah..." he sighs, he must be tired. "I was just wondering if I could talk to you?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"I mean... in person," he almost whispers.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh, well, no. I just really need someone to talk to and I don't want to burden my parents anymore than I already do."

"Oh, Jack," I say gently. " I'll be right over."

He opens his door with a solemn expression, stepping aside to let me in. I sit on the couch and he sits next to me.

"It's over, Mel," he whispers.

I stare into his blue eyes, "what is?"

"She broke it off, said it'd gotten too hard... that I was too invested in YouTube."

I hug him immediately. "I'm so sorry," I murmur. Though she has a point. He spends twelve hours a day doing this YouTube thing. But for the second half of the day he's texting her, eating and bathing. He barely has time to sleep.

He hugs me back after a moment, "I don't know what to do."

"Breathe," I rub his back, feeling his body shake. He'd been with her for so long, it really devastates me to see him so upset.

We talk for a while, discussing his future plans since he won't be moving in with her. He tells me that his main focus in life now is his job, and he's not going to let anything keep him from it. I tell him that's a good idea, to distract himself.

We talk until I have to leave. I don't have work tonight, but I do have a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning.

"Take care, Jack."

"I'll try my best," he waves, a huge frown dragging down his face. He's usually such a happy person.

As I drive home, I can't help but feel awful. Jack is such a good guy, he deserves to be happy. They were so in love, and it all vanished because the distance and time were too much for her.

And here I thought love could withstand anything.

AN: This is the first couple chapters of a co-written Jacksepticeye fanfic on Wattpad that was written by both me and my cousin (mainly my cousin.) I'm publishing it here in order to reach the word count required to be a beta reader on . If you like the story feel free to read it on Wattpad. The author's name is Skwarlogirl cfc.


	2. Strangely Okay

**Chapter 2: Strangely Okay**

"Hey, Jack," I call him the next morning. I felt bad for leaving him last night, so I told April and she said that he could probably use a night out. "Do you want to, maybe, come drinking with me this weekend? I could pick you up after work."

"Uh, sure," he says, not sounding sure at all.

"Okay, great," I fake enthusiasm and hang up. April smiles at me from the couch. I smile back and plop next to her, staring at the ceiling.

"So how much do you like him?" She asks casually.

I whip towards her, "I- what? I don't!" I can feel my palms getting all sweaty but I know it's not true. Jack is, well, Jack. I can't like him. It's that simple.

"Riiight, that's why you asked him out, then? Because you don't like him?"

"It's not a DATE, April! And besides, it was your idea in the first place."

"Well, come on. You must like him a little if you cared enough to actually follow through with my plan. You worry about his well being, don't you?"

"I love him." I watch her eyes widen, "As a friend," I add, hitting her shoulder playfully. "I worry about your well being- accusing me of liking Jack, ha, ha!" I mock her and her face drops. "What?"

"I just realized that, maybe now you WILL like him... considering that I said it. And now you'll think about it. You're going to start to picture yourself with him, and it's pretty much destined if you believe in psychology."

I stare blankly at her for a few moments before a devilish grin breaks through my poker face. "Bullshit," I laugh, her high-pitched bursts echoing with mine around the room.

I raise my fist to knock on Jack's door, but stop myself when I hear something. What is that? Is he crying? It's been a week since we last spoke, which is odd for us, he usually texts me every other day. Without hesitating, I push open his door and find him slumped in his computer chair, a thick layer of stubble on his cheeks, his eyes rimmed red and tears glistening in the white glow of his computer screen. He doesn't look at me when I approach him, he just stares at his computer.

"Jack!" I turn him towards me and pull him to my chest. "What's wrong? What happened?" When I finally get him to speak, he pulls back and looks at me, his eyes the deepest shade of blue you could imagine, like a stormy ocean.

"She... She deleted her Skype, blocked her number... I'll never talk to her again..." He sniffs, standing up and walking to the bathroom. I follow him, and almost run in to him when he stops suddenly. "Melane, is that what I look like?" He gasps at the mirror. "God, I'm hideous," he shuts the door before I can protest. I actually thought he looked quite fragile and sensitive, like a bunny or puppy.

"Hurry up, Jack, the pub won't be open forever," I sit in his computer chair and exit out of Skype. He shouldn't have been trying to call her anyway. I almost want to track her down and give her a piece of my mind, she and Jack were so happy, so cute, and she threw it all away. He's clearly not handling it well, the poor thing.

Jack comes out of the bathroom a little while later, finding me spinning in circles in his chair. His face is shaven and his eyes are brighter, less red than before. His hair looks well kept, but he grabs his grey beanie off the desk anyway.

"S-sorry," I stop myself from making another rotation with my boots and stand, almost falling face first, but my hand catches his arm. "Sorry," I repeat, his big eyes soft, and maybe even embarrassed.

"Chair wasn't made for that, Melane," he cracks my favorite smile and leads me out to my car.

We find ourselves a table and order the first of many rounds.

"Even on your day off, you come in," Walter laughs. I roll my eyes. He's technically my boss, but he doesn't act like it.

When Walter walks away, I look at Jack. He'd been quiet for most of the ride over, and I didn't try to fill the awkward silence then, but I will now. "Jack," I manage to get his attention over the loud, drunken noises around us. He meets my eyes and offers a weak smile. "How've things been? I haven't heard from you lately."

"Sorry," he looks at his hands, folded on the table. "I've been trying to upload longer videos."

"Your subscribers would understand if you took a break," I place my hand over his, staring into his eyes.

"I can't, Melane. I'm not the only one who goes through hard times, and these guys, they need my videos. It makes them happy."

"But what about you, Jack?" I whisper as our drinks arrive. He takes a sip and pretends not to have heard me. A few drinks later and the conversation flows easier, and a few more drinks, and we're on his couch in his cabin, me, halfway off the couch, and him, sitting on the arm, watching me slowly slide down. Eventually, we both end up on the floor.

"Y'know, Jack, I really think you're a-"

"Shh, no, let me say it... I'm a hot mess," he groans.

"I was gonna say that you're a good friend."

"Ohh... M-Mel, you're so nice to me, I really hope we're friends... for a long time, like, as long as I live."

"Aw, Jack, I... Thank you."

"No, thank YOU. If not for you, I'd probably still be sitting in my chair, staring at my computer," his eyes are glassy and he looks so sincere, I'm glad I made plans with him.

"Oh, Jack," I murmur, "You have to stop thinking about her. She couldn't take it, but true love is supposed to outlast distance AND time."

"Years..." He looks away and I grab his hand, not in control of my own body.

"It's never too late to start over," I smile.

"...Yeah," he exhales heavily. "But I'm going to need a while..." He takes his hand from mine and stands, mumbling to himself.

"Take your time," I whisper, "all the ladies want you." He walks away without looking back. I'm right though, all the ladies want him... Maybe even me. I climb back up onto the couch, suddenly very... very... tired.

~~~~~JACK~~~~~

"Ow," I moan, clutching my head as I roll over. My clothes are still on, what the hell? I always take my clothes off before bed. It's already one. Fantastic. I moan again, stumbling to the bathroom. Sunlight pours through the blinds and I wince, it stings my sore eyes. I don't normally vomit after drinking, but I drank so much last night.

It's so bad that I want to cry, my throat burns. And I have recording to do. I get up off the floor and brush my teeth twice. Where did Melane sleep? Perhaps she left before I went to bed. What did I do last night? I spit in the sink and look in the mirror. Red eyes, prematurely graying hair, pale skin. Not a pretty sight. Even my eyes are dull today.

After a quick shower and a breakfast of coffee and more coffee, I sit down to record. I switch on my computer, log in and set up Happy Wheels. Might as well, I don't feel well enough to talk to Evie on today.

My lamps are so bright, ugh. I take a deep breath and look at the camera.

"Top of the-" I stop, wincing. God damn, I am loud. I glance apologetically at the camera, though I'll probably just edit this out anyway.

"Top of the mornin' to ya," nope. Nope. My head pounds, my pulse races. Almost a full pot of coffee and I can't even do my intro. I put my head in my hands and squeeze my eyes shut. No tears now, Jack. You have to record. I haven't even uploaded yesterday's videos yet.

I open my eyes to her face. Not her physically, but my mental image of her. We were so happy... Tears well up, blurring my vision. She disappears, leaving me crying once again. I search my desk for a tissue of some sort, and find a note. From Melane. I quickly wipe my eyes on my hands.

"Hey, Jack, sorry I had to leave, I had plans with April today. I could stop by later if you'd like. Text me."

I start sobbing then, the note crumpling in my clenched fist. I don't want to text Mel. I know she really cares but I just want to be alone.

Sobs sticking on my throat, I upload the two videos I did yesterday and walk into the kitchen. I don't know what I'm doing here, tears making my neck itch and my eyes burn. I grab a paper towel and dry my face, but the tears keep coming. I can't take this. I hurt so much right now, I want it to stop. I want everything to stop. I want a life free of this misery. I didn't ask for this. Still sobbing, I grab a knife. I don't know what I'm going to do with it, but I run to the bathroom and look in the mirror. I'm pathetic. I'm a childish weirdo. I could never get another girlfriend... The tears slow as I realize what I'm doing. My arm is straight at my side. Blood dripping into my fist. I... I did this. I didn't feel it at first but now I do, burning and stinging like hell. I'm mesmerized. Shocked. Frozen. Some drips fall on the floor. I set the knife down on the sink, and slowly bring my arm up, relaxing it, feeling my tore skin tug as my muscles move. It's an all new pain, something strangely okay. The blood doesn't stop even after I wash my arm off. I dig in the medicine cabinet with my uninjured arm, bandaids won't do. They'll just stick to the wound, and it would take too many bandaids to cover what I've done. Four of them. Four bleeding lines I can't hide. I've heard of people blacking out from rage, but from sadness?

I wrap them in toliet paper for now, and look under the sink. Shampoo, conditioner, hand soap... a first aid kit? I didn't even know I had one. I sit cross-legged on the floor and open it with one hand. Bandages, like the kind people use as a tourniquet, or for sprains. This'll do. I wrap it around my wrist and clip it. Then I put the knife in my kitchen sink, and throw on a sweatshirt just as someone knocks.

"Oh, hey Ma," I open my door. "What's up?"

"I thought you were going to make lunch today?" She smiles at me, probably able to tell that I'm hungover.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I woke up late, and I guess I forgot." I lean against the door frame, trying to act normal, which is pretty damn hard right now.

"Oh, that's alright Jack. We'll just order a pizza. I didn't interrupt you recordin' did I?"

"No, ma," I look at my feet. "I was just about to though."

"Oh, well, could ya hold off a minute? I need to get an extra bottle of hand soap from the bathroom. We ran out and your father doesn't want to go anywhere today." I let her go through and sit in my chair. I think I'd rather record some Kerbal Space Program. Just as the game opens, she comes out of the bathroom.

"There's a little blood on the floor in there, Jack, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Just a nose bleed," I say quickly, trying to hide my fear.

"Oh, alright, have fun," she pats my shoulder and smiles. I walk her out and close my door, leaning against it. If she had been here five minutes earlier...


	3. Perfectly Symmetrical

**Chapter 3: Perfectly Symmetrical**

I stare at my phone, lying in bed. I just woke up. It's been two days since Jack and I went out, and he still hasn't texted me. I've thought about texting him, and April even told me I should check on him. Sighing, I text, "Hey, how are you?"

Ten minutes later, he responds. "Fine."

That's it? Not a 'Hey Melane, thanks for hanging out with me, I'm okay, how are you?'

"Are you sure?" I prod.

This time, half an hour passes, "Yeah."

Wow, Jack. Wow. Where's the conversation? I have to go see him. He's hiding something.

~~~~~JACK~~~~~

Melane couldn't have text at a worse time. I finish and set the knife down before wrapping my other arm up. I'm all about symmetry, you know. And, I just happened to have another bandage roll. It had to be a sign.

Ugh. How am I? Wonderful, perfect. Just swell. I text her, "Fine."

I grab the knife off the bathroom sink and rinse it. I thought that my first time would've been my last. But I kept thinking to myself. Four is a weird number. And only on one arm? It should be both, shouldn't it? If only I'd just done two, so I could just do two on the other arm and be done with it. And I wasn't really paying attention the first time. I just acted. Maybe if I pay attention to what I'm doing, I won't want to do it again. Yeah.

And then I grabbed a knife. I should buy a pocket knife, I thought. But then remembered that this is supposed to be my last time doing this, right? Right. No more after this. I'd sat on the edge of the tub and rolled up my sleeve. Nothing but pale skin on this arm. Pale, clean skin. A few moments pass and I was still staring, the blade in my left hand... I took a deep breath. A few more moments and the damage was done. There. Perfect. Then my phone buzzed. I saw Melane's name flash on my screen. Oh, not now. Not her.

I rinse the knife and sit back on the edge of the tub. Eight. Why eight? Is that enough? Will I stop thinking about it now? My phone buzzes but I ignore it. Eight isn't enough. I shouldn't do anymore on my arms though. Four was too much to hide, and now there's eight. The bandages can't cover much more. My legs, maybe? Could I do some on my legs? I undo my jeans and slip them down enough so I can see my thighs. Ten. Just ten. One on each leg. I should be good then. Ten is a good number. Good. I grab the knife with a shaking hand and press it to my leg... Already? That was too quick. Maybe just one more on this leg. But now there's ten, and the other leg, it's clean. Well I've thrown off the balance again, damn it.

I look at my other leg, ignoring the blood that's dripping on the floor. Just two on this one then. I'll be balanced, right? Sure, but I'll have twelve instead of ten.

A while later, and I have twenty total. Five on each arm, five on each leg. Balance. I'm scared, I realize. This is so much. How am I supposed to hide this? What do I do about my legs? Bandages won't fit, and I don't think I have anymore anyway. I've screwed up. I'll just have to let these scab over.

I clean the knife again and wipe up the mess I've made. Then I check my phone. "Are you sure?" the text reads. No, I think, tears forming. No, I'm not sure. I'm not okay, I swear. Sniffing, I type, "Yeah," and drop my phone, curling up on the floor. My legs burn. It hurts. It really hurts.

I'm still crying when I hear a knock. "Jack? It's Melane, open up."

Frantic, I shove the knife in the cabinet under the sink and close the door just as she walks in the bathroom.

"Jack! Are you okay?" I shake my head, unable to stop the tears. She sits next to me, hugging me tight. "What happened? Did you pass out?"

I nod. "I... I fell. Slipped on something. Hit my head on the tub." I sniff and try to stand.

"No, no," she holds me down. "Don't move. You could have a concussion."

~~~~~MELANE~~~~~

I knock on his door, feeling like something is very wrong. "Jack? It's Melane, open up." No answer. I slam open the door and survey the room. Not in here. Maybe he's in the bathroom. I find him on the floor, looking very miserable. "Jack! Are you okay?" He shakes his head, crying. I sit on the floor next to him and hold him tight.

Somehow, he manages to convince me that he doesn't have a concussion so he can upload the videos he edited last night. He was probably editing all night, he doesn't look like he got any sleep. I sit off to the side while he uploads, watching his face change. The tears have stopped now, and he looks almost content. He's focused and relaxed, just going through his daily routine. He really is cute, I don't know how I didn't notice before, he has big ears and a goofy smile that makes me feel so warm inside. I want so badly to grab one of his hands right now. But I can't.

When the first upload is complete, he turns to me, his eyes shining in the bright lights.

"Are you okay?" I ask quietly.

"Yes, Melane," he looks away, tugging at the ends of his sleeves.

"Are you cold?" I'd thought it was a little cool in here myself.

"A bit," he looks sheepishly into my eyes. I nod and find his thermostat. Well, no wonder he's cold! It's just fifty in here. After I turn it up, I go into his room and find him a blanket, draping it over his shoulders. He grins lightly.

As soon as he finishes uploading, he stands and stretches. "I'm about to record, Mel, I'll be alright, go home."

"No." I don't know why, but I just can't make myself leave him yet.

He sighs, "Would you like some coffee then?"

He sits down to record, glancing my way a few times as he sets up a game that requires this weird thing he calls a "Rift" over his eyes. He'd taped two green eyeballs over where his eyes would be. I vaguely recognize them as his signature septiceye.

"Are you just going to sit here and watch me?" He looks nervous. Maybe I should leave but... "Why don't you go take a nap? My bed's open."

"Uh, sure," I go into his room and close the door most of the way, but peek out of the crack.

"Top of the mornin' to ya laddies," he starts, and I have to hold a hand over my mouth to keep from giggling. It's much funnier in person.

At some point, my legs get tired and I sit on his bed. It smells like him. That thought makes my heart skip. He sleeps here, when he does sleep. I lay on top of the covers, staring at his ceiling. It's only two. But I did stay up later than usual after work last night.

My thoughts race as I try to fall asleep. Why was he so dull earlier? Did he just not want to text me? And why did he seem embarrassed when I asked if he was cold? Was he really nervous to record in front of me, or did he just want me to go away? Do I really think he's cute? How come I didn't notice before? Oh, Jack. What am I going to do?

~~~~~JACK~~~~~

I walk into my room around four, finding Melane under my covers, smiling in her sleep. Her black hair is flung over my pillow. She looks happy, so I try not to bother her when I sit on the edge of my bed. I didn't get much sleep last night, and my eyelids are like iron weights over my eyes. It's also really warm in here. I'd turned the heat down so I wouldn't get too warm in my sweatshirts, but then when I tugged on my sleeves, Melane thought I was cold. I was just trying to hide the bandages from her.

I yawn, looking at her sleeping so peacefully isn't helping. Laying down next to her, I set an alarm on my phone so she can wake up in time for work. She looks so innocent. I scoot a little closer, my face next to hers, our noses almost touching, and close my eyes.


	4. Dreaming

**Chapter 4: Dreaming**

I stare at my phone, lying in bed. I just woke up. It's been two days since Jack and I went out, and he still hasn't texted me. I've thought about texting him, and April even told me I should check on him. Sighing, I text, "Hey, how are you?"

Ten minutes later, he responds. "Fine."

That's it? Not a 'Hey Melane, thanks for hanging out with me, I'm okay, how are you?'

"Are you sure?" I prod.

This time, half an hour passes, "Yeah."

Wow, Jack. Wow. Where's the conversation? I have to go see him. He's hiding something.

~~~~~JACK~~~~~

Melane couldn't have text at a worse time. I finish and set the knife down before wrapping my other arm up. I'm all about symmetry, you know. And, I just happened to have another bandage roll. It had to be a sign.

Ugh. How am I? Wonderful, perfect. Just swell. I text her, "Fine."

I grab the knife off the bathroom sink and rinse it. I thought that my first time would've been my last. But I kept thinking to myself. Four is a weird number. And only on one arm? It should be both, shouldn't it? If only I'd just done two, so I could just do two on the other arm and be done with it. And I wasn't really paying attention the first time. I just acted. Maybe if I pay attention to what I'm doing, I won't want to do it again. Yeah.

And then I grabbed a knife. I should buy a pocket knife, I thought. But then remembered that this is supposed to be my last time doing this, right? Right. No more after this. I'd sat on the edge of the tub and rolled up my sleeve. Nothing but pale skin on this arm. Pale, clean skin. A few moments pass and I was still staring, the blade in my left hand... I took a deep breath. A few more moments and the damage was done. There. Perfect. Then my phone buzzed. I saw Melane's name flash on my screen. Oh, not now. Not her.

I rinse the knife and sit back on the edge of the tub. Eight. Why eight? Is that enough? Will I stop thinking about it now? My phone buzzes but I ignore it. Eight isn't enough. I shouldn't do anymore on my arms though. Four was too much to hide, and now there's eight. The bandages can't cover much more. My legs, maybe? Could I do some on my legs? I undo my jeans and slip them down enough so I can see my thighs. Ten. Just ten. One on each leg. I should be good then. Ten is a good number. Good. I grab the knife with a shaking hand and press it to my leg... Already? That was too quick. Maybe just one more on this leg. But now there's ten, and the other leg, it's clean. Well I've thrown off the balance again, damn it.

I look at my other leg, ignoring the blood that's dripping on the floor. Just two on this one then. I'll be balanced, right? Sure, but I'll have twelve instead of ten.

A while later, and I have twenty total. Five on each arm, five on each leg. Balance. I'm scared, I realize. This is so much. How am I supposed to hide this? What do I do about my legs? Bandages won't fit, and I don't think I have anymore anyway. I've screwed up. I'll just have to let these scab over.

I clean the knife again and wipe up the mess I've made. Then I check my phone. "Are you sure?" the text reads. No, I think, tears forming. No, I'm not sure. I'm not okay, I swear. Sniffing, I type, "Yeah," and drop my phone, curling up on the floor. My legs burn. It hurts. It really hurts.

I'm still crying when I hear a knock. "Jack? It's Melane, open up."

Frantic, I shove the knife in the cabinet under the sink and close the door just as she walks in the bathroom.

"Jack! Are you okay?" I shake my head, unable to stop the tears. She sits next to me, hugging me tight. "What happened? Did you pass out?"

I nod. "I... I fell. Slipped on something. Hit my head on the tub." I sniff and try to stand.

"No, no," she holds me down. "Don't move. You could have a concussion."

~~~~~MELANE~~~~~

I knock on his door, feeling like something is very wrong. "Jack? It's Melane, open up." No answer. I slam open the door and survey the room. Not in here. Maybe he's in the bathroom. I find him on the floor, looking very miserable. "Jack! Are you okay?" He shakes his head, crying. I sit on the floor next to him and hold him tight.

Somehow, he manages to convince me that he doesn't have a concussion so he can upload the videos he edited last night. He was probably editing all night, he doesn't look like he got any sleep. I sit off to the side while he uploads, watching his face change. The tears have stopped now, and he looks almost content. He's focused and relaxed, just going through his daily routine. He really is cute, I don't know how I didn't notice before, he has big ears and a goofy smile that makes me feel so warm inside. I want so badly to grab one of his hands right now. But I can't.

When the first upload is complete, he turns to me, his eyes shining in the bright lights.

"Are you okay?" I ask quietly.

"Yes, Melane," he looks away, tugging at the ends of his sleeves.

"Are you cold?" I'd thought it was a little cool in here myself.

"A bit," he looks sheepishly into my eyes. I nod and find his thermostat. Well, no wonder he's cold! It's just fifty in here. After I turn it up, I go into his room and find him a blanket, draping it over his shoulders. He grins lightly.

As soon as he finishes uploading, he stands and stretches. "I'm about to record, Mel, I'll be alright, go home."

"No." I don't know why, but I just can't make myself leave him yet.

He sighs, "Would you like some coffee then?"

He sits down to record, glancing my way a few times as he sets up a game that requires this weird thing he calls a "Rift" over his eyes. He'd taped two green eyeballs over where his eyes would be. I vaguely recognize them as his signature septiceye.

"Are you just going to sit here and watch me?" He looks nervous. Maybe I should leave but... "Why don't you go take a nap? My bed's open."

"Uh, sure," I go into his room and close the door most of the way, but peek out of the crack.

"Top of the mornin' to ya laddies," he starts, and I have to hold a hand over my mouth to keep from giggling. It's much funnier in person.

At some point, my legs get tired and I sit on his bed. It smells like him. That thought makes my heart skip. He sleeps here, when he does sleep. I lay on top of the covers, staring at his ceiling. It's only two. But I did stay up later than usual after work last night.

My thoughts race as I try to fall asleep. Why was he so dull earlier? Did he just not want to text me? And why did he seem embarrassed when I asked if he was cold? Was he really nervous to record in front of me, or did he just want me to go away? Do I really think he's cute? How come I didn't notice before? Oh, Jack. What am I going to do?

~~~~~JACK~~~~~

I walk into my room around four, finding Melane under my covers, smiling in her sleep. Her black hair is flung over my pillow. She looks happy, so I try not to bother her when I sit on the edge of my bed. I didn't get much sleep last night, and my eyelids are like iron weights over my eyes. It's also really warm in here. I'd turned the heat down so I wouldn't get too warm in my sweatshirts, but then when I tugged on my sleeves, Melane thought I was cold. I was just trying to hide the bandages from her.

I yawn, looking at her sleeping so peacefully isn't helping. Laying down next to her, I set an alarm on my phone so she can wake up in time for work. She looks so innocent. I scoot a little closer, my face next to hers, our noses almost touching, and close my eyes.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

AN: This is the first couple chapters of a co-written Jacksepticeye fanfic on Wattpad that was written by both me and my cousin (mainly my cousin.) I'm publishing it here in order to reach the word count required to be a beta reader on . If you like the story feel free to read it on Wattpad. The author's name is Skwarlogirl cfc.


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